To Survive

The pure fear that tainted the air practically choked Night. Everything was dead silent, except for a few stray whispers that were usually shushed. They were all following Blackstar, the ShadowClan leader, through the looming pine trees, to the camp.

Already, she knew what they would find. Over and over she prepared herself for the horror that would come. And so when the scent of blood and death flooded the air, she remained calm.

Everyone rushed through the entrance, into the beyond. Sobs reached the ear, and silent curses were spoken. So we were too late. Night pushed her way into the camp, a now familiar sight stretched out before her.

Dozens of bodies were scattered around, with blood pooling in the scuffled earth. Her eyes did quick scans as she trotted through the clearing. A sudden series of coughs drew her attention, along with everyone else's. A tabby tom's body was shaking violently, as he coughed up pools of blood.

His shoulder bore a huge wound, that matched the ragged claw marks down his back. As his body went through another spasm, several cats pushed their way to the front.

"Littlecloud, can you get herbs from your den?" Ordered a grey tom, with glazed over eyes. It didn't take long for Night to figure out he was blind, and she was surprised to see how skillful he was at applying herbs.

The medicine cats worked quickly, patching up the wounds while everyone stood close by, watching intently. One warrior stepped forward. "Will Sparrowmark be okay?" They said in a small voice.

"I don't know." Mumbled one of them.

Just then, the tom's eyes slowly opened, and focused on the cats around him. His eyes traced the remains of camp, almost seeming unsurprised at the bodies littered around.

"What happened?" Demanded one of his clanmates.

The words fell on deaf ears, as the tom only continued to look blankly around. It didn't look like he couldn't speak, it was more like he wouldn't. She recognized the look in his eyes. She once had the same look. Like they hadn't fought hard enough. That by living while the rest of their clanmates were dead, was the greatest sin that one could ever commit.

Night bit her lip, and lowered her gaze. They needed to check the other camps, or the survivors could be as risk of dying. But this tom was in no condition to travel.

As if reading her mind, Blackstar stepped forward. "ShadowClan will stay behind. We'll wait until the survivor is fit for travel, and then catch up with you."

That was not what Night had in mind. "No." Her voice was firm. "If we are divided, then we will die."

The survivor, Sparrowmark, suddenly struggled to his paws, his voice surprisingly strong. "I can walk."

But the moment he said those words, his right leg caved in, weakened by the gash on his shoulder. Someone instantly dove forward, giving him support, which he grudgingly agree to.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Night asked cautiously.

"I'm fine." He almost snapped. A few more warriors helped support him, before giving Night a nod, telling her they could move on.

His bleeding has pretty much stopped, she thought to herself. And it would be best if everyone stayed together. Regretting this, she let the leader Bramblestar, take charge, leading the clans away from this territory, and into the next.

...

Scar lingered by the entrance of the cave, listening to the wind howl by just outside. The tribe had assured them that this would end soon, and the weather would be good enough to travel in. But he still couldn't wait.

More clans would be murdered, and they were the only ones who could help them. And the faster they got to the survivors, the quicker they could return to finding Night.

He didn't like the way things were going. Most would say it was just bad luck. But at the same time, something felt... off, about all this. If he just knew what it was, even if he was given the tiniest clue, he felt they could avoid whatever danger was waiting for them.

"Hey, want to go hunting?" Scar jumped slightly, at the sudden voice. He recognized it to belong to Brook Where Small Fish Swim.

She looked at him expectantly, Stormfur by her side. "Sure... I guess." He mumbled, though inside he was grateful for any sort of distraction.

She gave him a warm smile. "Come on, this way." The two lead him over to where the rest of the patrol was waiting, ready to set out.

Together, they left the shelter of the cave, going into the freezing, numbing wind. Scar went breathless in shock, from the cold that leaked into his thin coat. He wasn't meant to be out in the cold. He was use to the burning sun overhead, and the dry grassy stone underpaw. But then again... his earliest memories were of snow.

Then the instant the patrol was fully out of the cave, Brook hesitated. "I guess we don't need to patrol the borders anymore." She mumbled, not meeting anyone's eyes.

The patrol continued forward, a little more slowly. Snowflakes caught on Scar's pelt, slowly melting, and soaking him. To his surprise, the others picked their way among the sheer cliffs and ledges with ease. He felt so clumsy, compared to the light footed tribe.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something. A series of slight indents in the snow, barely noticeable. His body acted for him, ignoring the rest of the group, and going as close as he could, without disturbing the tracks. Instantly, his mend set to tracking mode. Scar opened his mouth, breathing in the air. Besides the strong scent of snow, he could also smell prey.

"Rabbit." He shouted, loud enough for the others to hear over the wind. "That way."

By the time they reached him, the tracks were already gone. Erased by the wind and falling flakes. But he already had it's scent.

Someone commented on something, but Scar had already zoned them out. He trotted forward, head bent low, his nose barely brushing the white powder on the ground. He automatically avoided any obstacles, and focused on nothing but the lingering scent.

Scar only stopped when they'd reached a small bush, leaves still hanging on, as it sat in the shelter of a pointed rock jutting out from the ground. When he concentrated, he could hear tiny flickers of movement from inside.

He signalled with his tail, and took a light step back. He wasn't the worst hunter, but he wasn't the best. And he lacked the knowledge of how to hunt on these snowy peaks. The others didn't miss a beat.

Brook crept up on the bush with small, smooth movements. And in a flash, she'd pinned the rabbit in her deadly jaws. The white creature screamed, and withered around, only to fall silent as she snapped it's neck.

"Good job finding that rabbit!" Stormfur was beyond impressed. "I didn't think we'd find anything in this weather."

"Tracking is the only thing I'm good at." Scar mumbled, but inside he enjoyed the praise.

...

One night... that was all the time that had passed. The moon was still up, blocked by the trees that seemed to trace the stars. And in this one night, three clans had been killed. The fourth probably as well.

This clan... ThunderClan, was nothing more than a barren hollow, lined with still, cold corpses. The scent of death corroded the air, making it impossible to breath. Around Night, sobs and wails had started up, as they did every time before.

In the corner of her vision, the ShadowClan survivor collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. The medicine cats swarmed around him, one of them breaking off and heading toward a cave built into the steep walls. Night recognized the tom as Jayfeather, and watched him make his way to the indent, hesitating just outside, his eyes tracing a corpse in front of him.

The dead warrior was a dark brown she-cat, her shoulder's powerful, but her hind legs were lying in a strange way, as if she hadn't used them in a long time. Or more like she couldn't use them.

Jayfeather then unfroze, disappearing into the den, though on shaky legs. Night turned to look back at everyone else, surprised to see them already searching for survivors.

But the hollow, empty wails of sorrow made her heart twist in agony. Close to a smaller den, a grey and white apprentice was crying over two bodies. They both bore a deep resemblance to him, and were obviously litter mates.

"I can't believe this." The ThunderClan leader, Bramblestar, stood beside her. "The kits... the elders... everyone. Who would do such a thing?"

Night didn't answer. She didn't have to. EmberClan would kill everyone. That much was clear.

"Amberpaw! Amberpaw!" Night was startled, as the young apprentice called out. He was staring at the corpse of his sibling. At first, she didn't understand. Then... "She's alive!"

Night, along with most of the other warriors, rushed over. The ginger she-cat was barely breathing. But still alive. Whether it was on purpose or not, was almost unclear. But when she looked closer, Night could see the bite marks on the apprentice's neck were not quite deep enough for a kill. But almost.

By now, Jayfeather had emerged from his den, bringing wads of herbs crammed into his mouth. It didn't take long, before the apprentice's wounds were cleaned and treated. Unfortunately, Sparrowmark's condition was only getting worse. Even after being treated, he was still too weak. Had lost far too much blood.

And they still had one more clan to get to.

Another medicine cat approached her, and she recalled his name to be Littlecloud. "We've decided that the medicine cats should stay behind. Sparrowmark and Amberpaw are too wounded to travel, and can't be left on their own. The rest of you should go on ahead, incase you run into EmberClan."

Night shook her head. "What if they come back? You won't survive on your own."

"We've already thought about this. If WindClan has already been wiped out, like all the other clans, then EmberClan will probably go back to the island, to kill the rest of us. And since we're not there, they're going to come find us. They'll be looking for a large group, so with just the medicine cats and the survivors, we should be able to hide in one of the dens. Kestrelflight can go with you, to heal any injured." Littlecloud explained.

Night hesitated. This was the best decision. If they ran into EmberClan, they'd need every warrior they could get. And the medicine cats weren't trained to fight. So maybe it would be better for them to stay. She sighed. "Fine. But some of the warriors should stay behind as guards."

Littlecloud nodded, satisfied with this decision.

But... Night wasn't sure if it was the right decision. There was no way to tell how things would turn out in the end.

...

For some reason, travelling to the WindClan camp seemed to take forever. Night felt jumpy the entire way, and was thankful for her keen night vision, as she scanned the undergrowth every few feet.

Soon, she could hear a gurgling river up ahead, which she was told was the boundary between the two territories. The trees thinned slightly, letting in more moonlight. But it only made more shadows.

And the air reeked of EmberClan. She'd been able to smell it the entire time. But now it seemed stronger than before. The entire forest was void of life, everything holding it's breath. Like the silence before the storm. Night thought. No... like the silence before the kill.

It was then that the river came into sight. And just in front of it, stood the dark figure of a cat. A ginger cat, who's fur glowed like fire in the amber moonlight. It grinned, and even from far off, Night could see the layers of blood that coated it's fangs. "We've been waiting for you." And the bushes exploded with enemy warriors.

You know, I'm probably the only person who can kill off the four clans, and honestly not feel that guilty. Well, I was iffy about killing some of my more favourite characters off, but I got over it.

Up next; Battle to the death. Who survives, who dies?